Popular passages

Page 31 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.

Page 56 - Are you a man ? Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil. Lady M. O proper stuff ! This is the very painting of your fear : This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said, Led you to Duncan.

Page 70 - Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England. Macb. Fled to England? Len. Ay, my good lord. Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it. From this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done. The castle of Macduff I will surprise ; Seize upon Fife ; give to the edge o' the sword His wife, his babes,...

Page 92 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in 't. I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.

Page 16 - tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence Cousins, a word, . I pray you.

Page 65 - Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches ; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders...

Page 13 - That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That man may question? . You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips : you should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

Page 29 - tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven, Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose!

Page 32 - That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold ; What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. Hark ! Peace ! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good night.